Dave's Mental Meanderings
Poem - "One More Star"
Three hundred sixty-five days to count back
Since that rebel renaissance run,
In the holy name of salvation I came
If only to stir up some fun.
For what was salvation but lasting elation
After lingering so long in the dark,
Scaling the walls on my wits and my balls
Instead of wistfully walking the park.
Those do-or-die days before autumn’s haze
That in turn led to late winter flurries,
Impossibly penning my anthem of glory
In Kansas City, Missouri.
But I left myself open to recklessly cope when
In righteous upheaval I bathed,
The treacherous ropes of high-wire hopes
Are seldom escaped unscathed.
The burns and the scars, like formations of stars,
My collection of constellations,
Like a midnight map of the wandering wounds
Encountered through blind exploration.
Now tanned and toughened by tainted betrayals
That for certain were seldom one-sided,
Jaded at times, writing cynical rhymes,
And grinning when dreams have collided.
But a callous demeanor becomes not a dreamer
And the sleeve is no place for suspicion,
Two opposite fires in balance requires
A carefully honed intuition.
The downtrodden dregs of a drifter’s undoing
Should never be scratched from the page,
They’re much of what counts for the scars that amount
To the grit of coming of age.
To harness the heights of ascent from the gloom
A respect of one’s wounds is required,
It’s a fool who forgets the force of the fall
Or the cannon from which he was fired.
This tale of trials and tears I mistook
As a painful prologue to pen,
To brace and prepare for disgraces and scares
When the story started again.
Although surely I’ll draw on chapters gone by
While out on the Old Kings’ Road,
This marks not the end, for not soon will I send
My manuscript out to decode.
All too soon, by the light of the moon
I’ll consult the page I now start,
This road in the mirror will come to appear
As one more star on the chart.